


Nostalgia

by oOReaOo



Series: 11: 57PM [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Childhood Friends, First Loves, Nostalgia, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8465167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOReaOo/pseuds/oOReaOo
Summary: And though, even now, I'm not sure why I said yes, I firmly believe that my five year old self was actually on to something.





	

A few days before we graduated kindergarten, Jacob had declared himself a man the moment my mom pulled up to pick us up. I had no idea why a 5 year old wasn't capable enough to walk across the street and instead had to be driven (his one daily request). We were making our way to the very back seats of the minivan where he laughed and giggled to ourselves as my mom rounded the school pretending he lived further away from our kindergarten classroom than he actually did. The truth was school wasn't enough for us and we didn't want to part ways just yet.

But that day was different, that day he smiled to himself and, with a sudden rush in confidence, dropped to one knee with that same naive grin he has and asked: "Will you marry me, Rachel?"

I don't remember my complete answer from there, only that my answer had been yes. I don't remember considering other possibilities - back then - in kindergarten - there hadn't been any other factors. I might not have understood love than, but I had understood this: I only had a few friends, and I loved each and everyone of them. But Jacob - Jacob was different, he was tall, a bit chubby but all smiles and rainbows at the time.

And though, even now, I'm not sure why I said yes, I firmly believe that my five year old self was actually on to something. That, even immature and naive I had understood something than - and it was something that I can't even put into words now.

I had two main guys in my life growing up: Jacob and Dominic.

Jacob and I had grown up together. We had met in Kindergarden, Ms. Eatons morning class. I would go on to have every class of elementary school with him until we'd hit middle school.

He was always taller than me, and he like to make fun of me for it. He would lean on my shoulder and use me as an armrest knowing full well I always exploded on people who did that to me - my older sister and Mom being prime examples everyday. I was never particularly short in fact I was the tallest girl in my class from Kindergarden to 4th grade (5th grade some girl was at least 5 ft and I thought she was on steroids for a good while.

Jacob however didn't care that I was the tallest girl in the class - I was shorter than him by an inch and he would milk that carton until it was dry.

My mom stopped giving Jacob rides home once first grade hit - she said gas was too expensive and if we wanted to spend more time together than I could walk home. We did end up spending more time together - but I never did walk home.

There isn't much I remember about first grade. A few moments stick out every now and then - I cried on MLK day because I watched a cartoon that showed (more like heavily implied) his death. Ms. Cunningham had to call my mom. They should have known then and there that I was going to grow up believing equality and be an active supporter of #blacklivesmatter.

I wasn't like the other kids. My opinions, even at a young age, were more gray than black and white. Don't let my gray thinking fool you though, I was still an opinionated person. I loved arguing - it gave me an adrenaline rush. Unfortunately, so did lying. Those were my two major flaws growing up. Actually those are still my two major flaws.

I met my best-friend in first grade. Her name was Hannah. She was an intelligent, short, little Asian girl who loved Hawaii and Fall Out Boy. She constantly wore a Fall Out Boy jacket. It was black and red with bears on it and said Fall Out Boy on the left breast. It was worn and torn by the time we reached continuation but I would recognize that jacket anywhere.

She used to have a fringe and would wear her hair pulled back in a pony with blue flare jeans and converse.

She lived with her dad mostly. I don't know much about him - only that he had a blonde mohawk and a motorcycle. We never talked much. As for her mom, I met her on a few occasions. I've heard that she didn't like me - I have no idea why. The only parent of Hannah who I've known the name of was Eddie. He was her moms boyfriend at the time - I have no idea where he is now, come to think of it, he kind of look like Cinna from the hunger games.

Her mom moved to Texas with her three younger sisters around 8th grade. She stayed in Colorado with her dad and older brother.

Hannah was my first breath of realism. She was innocent in 1st grade, but as the years went on, she taught me how to cuss, how to argue with boys, and indirectly how to stand up for myself.

I kicked the first boy who ever called me Shrek on the playground in 4th grade. He was twice my size and he hugged his shin and cried. I was lectured - I shouldn't kick boys even if they call me names. They are just trying to express that they like you.

You would think if a boy liked you he wouldn't call you Shrek and laugh in your face when you got upset. In what world is that supposed to be a form of affection?

Hannah and I were the only pair of all the friends I've ever had that fought. And I mean yelling across the classroom type fighting. We would call each other nasty names, liars and backstabbers. Then, a few days later we'd be perfectly fine.

Hannah was the only one to challenge me. Her wits battled mine. We would always compete against each other. We tied in quite a few things. We could run the same speed, we would always tie in arm wrestles, and so on.

We weren't entirely goody-two shoes back then. We would secretly cuss out teachers and complain about our parents. We would play LPS in the field of the playground and give them tragic lives - this ones brother committed suicide, this one comes from an abusive family, and so on.

Our hormones must have kicked in early as well. By fifth grade we were talking about sex and boys and periods and boobs. We weren't necessarily quite about it either, we had no shame - we were who we were. We endured all the drama together even if we weren't necessarily on each other's sides we always had each other's backs.

Even now, we don't see each other, but we still have each other's backs.


End file.
